


Surprises

by Rebecca



Category: Agatha Christie's Poirot (TV)
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Pre-Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-17 14:57:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16518662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebecca/pseuds/Rebecca
Summary: Hastings' enthusiasm takes Poirot by surprise, but there is a conversation they need to have before they proceed.





	Surprises

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "100 words of erectile dysfunction".

Poirot is not quite sure how they went from hanging their hats on the hatstand to this. The last remnants of a case-related adrenaline rush might have something to do with it, and perhaps the outcome is not entirely unexpected, given all the lingering gazes and touches lately and the almost blatantly romantic dinners, but surely there is a conversation to be had first? Thoughts and words, however, are too elusive at the moment, with Hastings pressed against him, ravishing his mouth, and his own heart fluttering excitedly in response. He kisses back eagerly, hungrily, the feel of Hastings' lips beneath his a hot and heady mix of which he cannot get enough.

He has no idea how long they spend exploring, caressing, being wrapped up in each other. After a while, the sudden passion ebbs away into tenderness and the kisses slow down, become chaste pecks until they finally stop. Hastings pulls away, reluctantly, and there is a frown on his face. Not quite looking Poirot in the eye, he says, "Have you ever, uh ... _been_ with a man?"

" _Oui_ ," Poirot answers simply.

"Oh." Hastings seems surprised at first, but then, a shy grin spreads across his face. "That's good. At least one of us knows what he's doing, then."

He leans in again, angling for another kiss, but this time it is Poirot who evades him. Hastings' last remark, however casual, has filled him with a pang of regret and the certainty that there is indeed a conversation they need to have, even if it is the kind of conversation a man, naturally, hates having. He lets his hands fall to his sides and takes a deep breath. "I am flattered by your enthusiasm, _mon ami_ , but it has been a long time. While one never forgets the theory, the ... performance is not what it used to be."

"I say, Poirot, you are still... Oh." For a split second, Hastings' gaze flits down between them. "You mean...?"

Poirot tilts his head in affirmation.

Hastings, his dear Hastings, takes the situation in his stride. With renewed vigour, he pulls Poirot close and whispers in his ear, "Well, I'm sure we'll think of something." He nibbles at his earlobe, gently, sending shivers down his spine with every touch of his teeth. "I mean ... you want to, Poirot, do you?"

Poirot laughs shakily. "Yes, _mon cher_ , I want to."


End file.
